


Steady Hands

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spinister was one of the few mechs whom Krok trusted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steady Hands

The light from the fire was slowly starting to die down. Chill was beginning to set into Krok’s circuits, but he couldn’t bring himself to shift over to the make-shift camp ground a few feet away. Beside him sat Spinister, the only one save for him still awake. The surgeon fiddled with his gun, the clever digits making quick [work](http://magicrobotgeography.tumblr.com/post/68829981669/fanfic-krok-spinister) of cleaning the rifle.

Krok watched him with a [detached](http://magicrobotgeography.tumblr.com/post/68829981669/fanfic-krok-spinister) air. In all fairness, he should have been frightened by the prospect of the unstable mech with a gun in his hands, but Krok found the notion more reassuring than anything else. He trusted Spinister, in a strange way. No other mech in the universe had surer hands than Spinister, after all.

Spinister barely paid Krok any mind. Occasionally, he snatched glances at the commander, but otherwise stayed focused on his task. He shifted kibble, dismantled the barrels, and meticulously polished the handle. He worked effortless, concentrating on his task.

He finished in a timely manner, Krok watching the whole time. It amazed him how skilled Spinister was. The surgeon placed the gun to the side, stretching his digits and stowing away his polish rag into subspace. The fire had completely burned out at that point,

Spinister peered at his companion in the darkness, rubbing at the joints in his knuckles. The sensitivity of his hands often made them ache after long periods of activity. Krok was aware of this and silently offered his hand to help.

With a grunt, Spinister passed over his servo. He sank into his seat as Krok began his ministrations, passing his digits over the joints in careful circular motions. It was cold, but both of them ignored their discomfort in exchange for enjoying the moment. 


End file.
